


I'll see you in Tokyo.

by JamieBenn



Category: Olympics RPF, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7804072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieBenn/pseuds/JamieBenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you go to Rio in 2016, and you come back with at least two individual gold medals, I’m going to give you something real important.”<br/>“Come on, what can you give me that I don’t already have, Lochte?”<br/>“Dunno, my ass?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll see you in Tokyo.

**Author's Note:**

> I have only read up about these two because of the current Olympics, I am Australian and have never really seen these men in the media ever, so everything is off of the internet/the recent Olympic coverage, and I am sorry if it is terrible, I just needed to write something (also cry because I always miss the golden age of pairings).

Whenever Ryan won against Michael, there were mixed feelings. To Lochte, the races against Phelps were always a challenge, and a welcome one. But to Phelps, there was utmost pressure, especially when these races were on the world stage. So, even though Ryan was winning every time at the World Championships, Michael was winning every time at the Olympics. It was this rivalry that kept the two going. It was this rivalry that made Michael want to keep swimming even though he had reached the pinnacle of the sport.

So, when Michael told everyone in 2012 that he would be retiring after the Olympics, it kind of scared Lochte. He did not like the idea that if Michael was not there, then he would not have as much competition, and thus he might not last as long in the pool as he wanted to. Sure, there were the times in his life that he thought about how much more he could have in the world, if Michael Phelps were not a swimmer. He would be the most decorated Olympic athlete. He would have more world records. He would just have a far better public image than he did. But other times, he realised that he was only really as good as he was in the pool because of the true rivalry between he and Phelps, and how he got to contest it at home, and not just in international competitions.

So, he went to Michael’s room in the Olympic village not long after he heard the news come from one of the other swimmers. The man was in his room, just lazing around comfortably in his Olympic tracksuit. The swimming races were all over, aside from the relays. This meant that it was mostly a time for the swimmers to relax. So, the man swiftly opened the door, and grinned in the way that only Michael Phelps ever grinned.

“Do you mind if I have a chat with you?” Ryan asked, already walking into the room. He did not want anyone else to overhear what he was going to say to Michael.

Michael answered with a happy noise of agreement, and promptly sat back down on the bed in the room, turning the music that he had on down to a very slight hum.

“I hear you’re retiring after these Olympics?”

Michael had a questioning look on his face, like he was wondering why Ryan was evening questioning it. Not many people went past four Olympic games, let alone if they had huge amounts of records. The better the athlete, the shorter time that they usually stay within the sport. This was not something that the other man should really be questioning.

“Well, do you know what you are going to do after it? I mean, you love swimming. You don’t have like a degree from college or anything, what’s your backup?” Ryan asked, like he was one of the journalists that everyone hated. The ones that would not even give you time to answer the questions. “I just don’t want you doing something that you don’t need to do. You’re on top of the sport, and you could continue doing this for a while longer, and still be at the top.”

Michael was sitting, stupefied. He had not expected this from his friend, and rival. “But another four years? Man, that’s just something that I’m not sure I can do.”

Ryan shook his head, “You know you can do it. You’re Michael Phelps.”

“Yeah.” Michael voiced his sarcastic kind of agreement. He was Michael Phelps, but how long could he continue to be the Michael Phelps that all of his fans, and his country, wanted him to be?

They sat in a kind of silence for a while. Neither was sure how much time was passing, but both of them were contemplating the opportunities that lie ahead of them. This was a great time to do something different. Michael was still young, he could still do a lot with his life. For Ryan, this could be the opportunity to finally get recognised as one of the United States greatest swimmers ever. This would also mean that he would not be seeing Michael often. He would not have the rivalry that had kept him alive in the world of swimming since 2004.

When one of them broke the silence, it was Ryan. There was one opportunity that this moment was giving him. He could not help it, the fact that it was in his American blood to gamble. People in the USA loved throwing their money away at things that could not prove good odds.

“Okay. Then, I have a proposal.”

Michael looked back up at Ryan, ready to hear the proposal that was certain to be ridiculous. It was coming from Ryan Lochte, of all people.

“If you go to Rio in 2016, and you come back with at least two individual gold medals, I’m going to give you something real important.”

“Come on, what can you give me that I don’t already have, Lochte?” Michael asked, ready to laugh off whatever Ryan had up his sleeve.

“Dunno, my ass?” Ryan laughed.

Michael laughed with him, before giggling and saying “Nah, man, if I end up competing in Rio, you can have _my_ ass, because it is definitely _not_ going to happen.”

The topic of retiring was definitely serious. Most swimmers retired around the age of twenty-seven. It made sense for Phelps to retire after these Olympics. But whilst Ryan was laughing off his certainly fake proposal, Phelps shrugged.

~*~

The trials for the United States 2016 Olympic team had come and gone. Ryan was not pleased that he had not made it into more events. He was certainly hoping to get back in the pool for the 400 metre individual medley, but that did not happen again. There was one thing that he was keeping his eye on, however. That was how Michael was doing.

He was not posting his best ever times, of course. It was not 2009 anymore, and not many people were getting very close to those times without the aid of the super suits. However, he was still doing quite brilliantly. He made all his usual races. Once again, they both made the 200 metre individual medley, and Michael made all his favourite butterfly things as well.

In the heats, Michael did not generally post super-fast times, but he got along well. At one point Ryan was worried for Michael - that he would not reach even one gold medal, but he did it quite easily, in the end. He supposed that it was because he was too focused on Michael’s races that he did so badly in his only individual swims. He could not necessarily _blame_ the other man, but he cared a lot for Michael’s career.

On the fourth day after the opening ceremony of the Olympics, Michael got the 200m butterfly gold. It was possibly the race that Michael was the most known for, Ryan had been quite happy for him. But on the sixth day, or night as it was, they had their 200m individual medley race. When the race had finished, Ryan had been as disappointed as he should have been. He came fifth. It was not what he had wanted from the race, and people did not expect him to do so badly in the race that he usually dominated at in World’s.

But Michael won, as usual. The Olympics were his place. He knew the meet like the back of his hands. This was his _fifth_ time. He had been doing the whole thing since he was only fifteen years old. He had been winning at least 3 gold every Olympics since he was nineteen years old. And, he had won his fourth back to back in an event. Ryan liked to think that doing the same thing in the same race in the world championships was more important, but he knew that the Olympics were more of a public spectacle.

So he helped Michael celebrate the win, and the record medal that night. They partied, but not too hard. Michael had butterfly the next day, and then he also had the medley relay the next.

They were in his room, and they were partying, as would be expected after a gold medal win. There was, however, the thought hanging on Michael’s mind, of the promise that had been made all those years ago, back in London, after he had said that he was going to retire for the first time. That promise that Ryan had made to him, and the proposal that he had made in return, even if it was somewhat of a joke. That promise had always stuck in his mind over the past four years.

So he could not help but take a couple of glances at the man’s ass. He could not help but look at the way his ass curved when he bent over. That was not the only thing that he realised when they were partying that night. The laughter that came out of the other man’s mouth was amazing. It was sso… contagious. It made Michael want to laugh all night long. He could not help but let a slght giggle escape whenever Ryan was laughing.

But nothing happened that night. Nothing happened, and Michael went back to worrying about swimming. He went back to worrying about winning races. He still had the butterfly and the relay to go, and he was definitely planning on winning those. Hopefully Rio would not be the \Olympics that he would be giving up his titles in his favourite events.

He woke up for a small practice round in the pool as there was nothing huge happening in that arena that day. They had closed the arena off for athletes during the day. So he occasionally jumped in. He swam like he always did in training, but he had races later that day, so he had to be in top shape for them, and not tired. The only thing was that swimming was really the only thing that would get his mind off things. He could not help but keep his mind on Ryan from the night before. He could not help but think about the way that he had laughed, and the way that he had smiled. He could not help but think about their partying ways. If he stopped swimming, then that would all come back. He did not want to think about that all too much.

So, that night, he may have come second in the butterfly. He didn’t even get that part of the podium to himself, either. He had to share it with not only one, but _two_ other swimmers. He would not have been so angry with himself if it had been a shared gold, but it was not a shared gold.  It was a shared silver. That was maddening to him.

Also that night, people still congratulated him. They still told him that he had done a good job to win the silver in his fifth Olympics at the age of thirty-one. It was not good enough to him, though.  He also knew why it had happened. Because he could not get his thoughts off of his teammate.  Ryan Lochte was definitely one of those people who were just too bubbly, too happy for their own good.

So, whilst there were people awake in the late hours, partying dude to their own successes, he sat, thinking about everything that had gone wrong. He had entered the race in a bad lane, he knew, but he had done that before, and he usually always won, still. A lane seven or eight, or even one or two should not be detriment to a good swimmers race. He did not want to take anything away from Schooling, but he was the GOAT, and he was definitely not on his game that night.

It did not take too long of Michael sitting on his own, for Lochte to notice him. His hair was silver, as he had done just for the Olympics, and it gleamed in the yellow light of the sitting room.  He did not say a word as he sat down next to his friend. Ryan was always the chatty one, but he knew that this was not the time.

This time, it was Michael that broke the silence, telling Lochte, “I have to actually retire this time.”

Ryan nodded in acknowledgement. “At least let me get you your prize for lasting these four more years?”

“You don’t mean…?” Michael asked. Surely the other man did not remember the promise that he had made so jokingly all those years ago? It had come from nowhere, and Michael had expected that it had gone back into nothing in the back of Ryan’s brain. He had expected that it had gone back into the mess that was Ryan Lochte, and that it was never going to come out

“I mean it. I definitely mean it. You should know how much I mean it.” Ryan laughed, “Have you _not_ seen how much that I have been looking at your general genitalia region in the past few weeks? I know how hard you have been training, and I have known that you were up for a pretty good chance to get the best on me for our deal.”

Michael laughed, “You’ve been looking at _me?_ ” He shook his head, not being able to believe it. HE supposed he had been a little focused on other things. Like swimming and Ryan’s ass. “Man, I’ve been looking at _you_.”

“So which one are we going with?” Ryan asked, “We both made the same deal, and we never really made a proper agreement.”

“I guess, we made more of an agreement on your half.” Michael was in thought, his hands out the way that people do when they are weighing things up in their head.

“You know we closed off with your deal.” Ryan said with all seriousness.

Michael nodded, feeling himself getting hard. He looked right at the other man, but they were not alone, and a hard on in the common room would definitely not go unnoticed. It was in that moment that they desperately needed to remove themselves from the situation, and find somewhere more private where they could finish their ‘conversation.’

Michael stood up, covering his crotch with his hands as subtly as he could manage. He stumbled towards his room, and Ryan followed him. They were both filled with heat, and neither of them could wait to find themselves _touching_ each other.

Michael had long forgotten his loss in the pool that evening. Instead, his mind was filled with thoughts of a glistening Ryan Lochte body beneath him, sweat leaking because the other man would be so _hot_. Michael could picture every inch of the other man.

As they staggered into Michael’s room, the door had not even shut yet, when Ryan grasped Michael’s shirt and was pulling it over his head, Michael immediately decided that they _both_ needed to be naked as soon as they could. This lead to clothes being strung about everywhere, and dropped straight onto the ground, so their naked bodies could cling together as fast as possible.

If anyone were to see the scene, they would see average sized Lochte clinging to the quite tall figure of Phelps, but it was certainly the other way around. Michael’s long arms wrapped around Ryan’s smaller frame in an effort to get closer. Both men pressed their mouths to each other’s in an utterly mutual and ravenous kiss. Lips were entangled with lips, and tongues entangled with tongues. Ryan ran his hand over the other man’s hair, feeling the length between his fingers, as his tongue poked into the taller man’s mouth.

Despite Michael’s height, their dicks lined up to each other, and the desperate movement to get closer each other and kisses presented friction to their dicks, where both became much harder than they were before from the arousal alone.

As soon as Michael relinquished the hold that he had on Ryan, Ryan took the opportunity to remove himself from contact with Michael, before getting his own grip on the other man. Although the movement was playful, the small wrestle was still furious between the two men. They both had a lot of strength, and when Michael rolled over, Ryan knew that it was not his wrestling skills that caused it.

As Ryan sat on Michael’s legs, he found the lube in the bedside drawer as fast as he could.

When Michael realised what Ryan was doing, he moaned. He could not believe that they had not done this earlier in the twelve years that they had known each other.

Michael felt Ryan’s warm hands fondling his ass, parting his cheeks to give access to the hole. Michael shivered with anticipation, and whimpered a little as one of Ryan’s fingers touched his hole. Cooler than his hands had been before, and slick with the lube, the finger pushed inside. It was not the most comfortable feeling that Michael had ever experienced, but it was definitely not unpleasant.

And he wanted _more_. He wanted there to be more of Ryan inside of him. He wanted more fingers. Hell, he would not even mind if Ryan just took him right then, not even warming him up for the something bigger than stood from Ryan’s body.

It was like Ryan had read his mind, and the man quickly slammed two fingers in, instead of the original one. It did not take long for a third to be placed alongside it. And those three together were not stretching the flesh for too long, either. Ryan was just as excited as Michael was. Neither man were sure that they were going to last very long when Ryan put his dick in Michael.

Michael’s ass was tight around Ryan’s dick. He did not do this too often, usually too focused on swimming to go out and do something usually so taboo.

But it felt so good. This man was someone that he was so close with. He was someone that had stood by his side for years. This was his best friend, he knew. He had just never considered it to be _this_ kind of love. However, it turned out it was.

Ryan thrust into Michael’s body, hitting the prostate almost immediately, he realised, as Michael almost came apart beneath him.

Michael felt ecstatic, like he was on the top of the world. Lust clouded his vision, and he wanted even more contact with this man, and what Ryan was giving him was still not enough.

And as Ryan pulled out in preparation to thrust again, Michael threw himself up, not wanting to lose the contact.

And then there was another thrust, and Michael lost sensation of anything else. It seemed that his eyes were not working, and that should have scared him, but it did not in the slightest, because Ryan Lochte was _fucking him_.

“You’re so good, MP. So good.”

On the third thrust, Ryan came, come spilling into his friend’s ass. And it seemed that Michael came almost exactly at the same time, his own come spilling on the covers and smudging into his stomach. But it had been after Ryan had come, and at least this was one race that Ryan could win against the GOAT.

Ryan had slumped, lying down beside Michael, who had turned over to face him.

“I don’t suppose I _have_ to stay another four years for us to do that again, do I?”

Ryan grinned, “Jeah.”

“But I’ve been saying…”

“Japan’s nice.” Ryan leant forward and kissed Michael on the lips. Not so passionate this time, but there was definitely a beautiful meaning behind it.

**Author's Note:**

> (Also, feedback would be great.)


End file.
